A Sister's Sentiments
by SakuraLetters
Summary: "Nations die, baby brother - Continents do not." A sister's letter to her brother after the end of the world. OC North America and mentions of OCs


**...Hi! SakuraLetters here! This is my first fic for this fandom, as I have just recently gotten into it. (I'm also trying desperately to beat my writer's block for my FMA stories...-_-') Anyway, this story was born out of an discussion with my old History teacher about the whole thing about 2012. So, this little plot bunny oh-so-nicely came and bit me in the butt. **

**This is supposed to be a letter from North America to her younger brother Australia. I've been developing a set of OCs for the continents and the oceans. (Why do only the nations get to have fun? |D) I figured it'd be nice to do a piece focusing on any possible relationship between the continent-who-wants-to-be-a-nation and another continent. What spurred this train of thought was the whole 2012 thing as well as the possible identity crisis with Australia. **

**Disclaimer: I, SakuraLetters, do not own Axis Powers - Hetalia in any way, shape, or form. However, I do own the concept of the personifications of continents and oceans (as far as I am aware...I have yet to come across one involving them) and the plot.  
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There are words one says in this situation, I realize. However, I regret to inform you that I don't know a one of them. Shocking concept, perhaps, but true. I have a been a mother only twice, three times if you want to get technical, as compared to Europe how has had so many children I can barely keep up with them all. Or Asia, who has also birthed several children. Even Africa and my own twin have brought forth more children than I. They know the words that are to be said in times like these. They've said them before.

So why in our Dearest Mother's name did you come to me?

As a mother, I think it is safe to say that I was a royal screw up. My sons had to be taken in by three of Europe's sons before they became anything at all. My failings in the area of motherly tenderness and kindness are numerous. I could be a harsh woman, and I was far too wrapped up in my wild freedom to even consider my duty to raise my sons. The early people that inhabited my lands followed my ways, creating a vast network of tribes that stretched through my lands. They took only what they needed from me, and always repaid me. I was no more their mother than I was their landlord. But my sons…my sons were different. They were not embodiments of tribes; no, they were the beginnings of nations!

And you, my only brother, you were always like them. You had the heart of a nation, not a continent. Antarctic was harshest on you, I know, but she had good reason. This is precisely why you should never pretend to be like your nation friends. Nations die, baby brother—continents do not.

We all worried about you as the Last Day approached. We all knew that you would be forced to watch the people you cared deeply about suffer and die while you yourself escaped mildly unscathed. Your heart was far too tender to endure that, Brother. Your reaction proved to us that we could never allow you to be a country again.

I remember you came to me, covered in their blood and crying your eyes out. Why me? Africa and Asia were closer! Why come to a continent whose has never truly understood how to give comfort to a frightened child—because that is what you were, Brother, no matter how much you deny it—or how to ease a pain she does not fully comprehend? Even Antarctica would have been a better choice—she had only birthed one child, but she was a million times the mother to that one child than I had ever been to my three sons.

You didn't know that, did you Brother? I don't expect you to; that was long before your time, and the child died before the ancient empires took root. Antarctica was a very different woman back then. Her daughter's tragic death was what turned her heart cold and made her cover her land in thick sheets of burning ice. You would have loved that girl, Antarctica's daughter. She was very much like you are now.

You are not completely alone in the loss that you feel. Our sisters will not stop weeping. Asia, who had borne so many strong sons, has been once more reduced to a childless woman. Europe is torn between the pain afflicting every surface of her body and the pain burrowing deep into her heart. Africa…she will not say a word or shed a tear but we all know that her silence is as much grief as it is protection. If she utters a sound, we all know she will break. South America…my frail twin…she's mourned for the children she now buries. Humans used to say that a mother should not have to bury her children. As continents, we have no choice.

Fragments of the nations you tried so hard to be like remain scattered over the scarred land. As our Ocean sisters cleansed away the fires and evils that ravaged us, the world has fallen silent again for the first time in many millennia. There is nothing comforting about this silence. That is why we always end up having children…and that is also why we always end up mourning them with bitter tears and songs of parting. You don't know how lucky you are, brother—you have no children to mourn and bury. You do not have to watch the sons and daughters you brought forth be lowered into the ground or as their ashes dance with the wind. Even Antarctica has known this pain. We all have.

Although, maybe you are the least lucky of all of us. You knew them better than we did. Our innocent, sweet, naïve baby brother knew our children better than we, their own mothers, did. You were very good friends with two of my sons. You knew them as I never will again. Perhaps they will be born again, but we both know it will never be the same.

The truth is, I envy you, brother. You uncovered the ugliness that was inside of me. You reminded me that I was nothing a mother should be. You have unwittingly taken all of my faults and thrown them back in my face. For this, I hate you.

Stop crying to me. Go cry to Antarctica. She would probably feel genuinely for you.

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**...Yes, I know North America sounds like a bitch, but I'm trying to paint a realistic personality here. North America's got a few issues to work out, and most of them stem from the fact that, unlike her sister continents, she didn't really have any empires or "children", and the three she does have (Canada, America, and Mexico) are all technically "raised" by other nations. So...yeah, she's got family issues. **

**As for why she's taking it out on poor Australia...she's one of those people who tend to lash out at whatever/whoever's closest. Australia was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. **

**(Another thing that might explain her somewhat cold demeanor is that I'm currently reading "Snow Flower and the Secret Fan", and the feelings and conflicts in that book might have had a bit of an affect on North America.) **

**Well, you know what to do! Please leave a review and offer feedback if this royally sucked. I don't usually like entering a fandom with a oneshot/drabble written from the POV of an OC, but this was just nibbling at my hind-end and needed to get out, so yeah...**

**-SakuraLetters  
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